


For All of the Times Youth Wasn't Beautiful

by puffinperfection



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Divorce, Eating Disorders, I'm really really sorry, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, content warnings include but are not limited to:, domestic abuse, i'm just so sorry, seriously though i warn you not to read this if any of this could cause you discomfort in any way, this is actually kind of pretty shitty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:03:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1388638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puffinperfection/pseuds/puffinperfection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up is hard. No one understands the struggle, and even if they did, they'd make no effort to relieve it.</p><p>So why do they say youth is meant to be beautiful?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This work will contain some very sensitive content. This chapter includes mentions of suicide and hallucinations. This is your final warning. If you do decide to turn back, I will in no way be offended.
> 
> PS I'm really sorry.
> 
> PPS Sollux and Aradia and Feferi and Eridan are sixteen, just to clarify.

**"Your best friend committed suicide and you knew it would happen."**  
  
You won't cry, crying is a sign of weakness and you, Sollux Captor, are most certainly not weak. If anything, you are a goddamn skyscraper, and one that not even the strongest of earthquakes can tear down one of those things. You stand tall and stony as everyone else cries and mourns the loss of your old friend, wringing your hands as you avoid her mother's gaze. She doesn't know, not to your knowledge, and it feels good to know that she doesn't. Knowing makes you feel more assured that you won't get yourself dug six feet under like Aradia is about to be now.  
  
Sobbing to your left is a girl you know isn't any older than eighteen, and one that you didn't really know had settings other than perverted and falsely innocent. She's Damara, Aradia's older sister, and you're witnessing her cry for the first time. Honestly, you wouldn't have guessed she cared so deeply for Aradia, as the two of them always seemed to be fighting something fierce. Like a clash between two opposing forces, they always were at each other's throats, trying to break each other's central power system like in any other decent war. Maybe she had a big part to play in Aradia now being gone, maybe she didn't; Aradia didn't give you that many details. She just told you she was going to do it, and...  
  
You don't want to complete that thought, you don't even want to think about her being gone. You want to think of it all as some sick dream, some nightmare that The Sandman accidentally left you with while doing his rounds. You wish that you could give yourself a rough pinch and wake up in your bedroom, likely drenched in cold sweat with tears hot on your cheeks. Then you would grab your phone and call her at three in the morning, and she'd answer and you'd tell her your nightmare, and just like she were there she'd tell you the most soothing things you'd ever hear and you'd calm down in a heart beat.  
  
Sadly, that reality can't be true, and it's all your goddamn fault.   
  
You try not to think about her, which is impossible since you're at her funeral.  
  
Still not crying.  
  
You crane your neck to see the other guests, to see who else has had their heart broken by this tragedy that hasn't ceased to be your fault. A small streak of purple against the sea of black gives away that Eridan is in attendance, and propping up on your toes you can see that he's holding Feferi in his arms, who is no doubt sobbing up a storm on his nice suit jacket. Just as you had Damara, you wouldn't have guessed that Feferi could be so upset about Aradia. You had always figured they'd had some mutual dislike, for they had seemed to constantly fight for the same guy's attention - that guy being you. You make a note to check up on her afterwards. She is a friend of yours, after all, even if Aradia comes first.  
  
Excuse you, even if Aradia  _came_  first.  
  
Your force yourself to look at the casket for the first time since the viewing. Oh, she was so beautiful, wearing a red dress that had been in her closet for ages, the one she wore once for a Model UN ceremony at school then vowed never to wear again and with her frizzy black hair all brushed out and arranged neatly to frame her face, so small and sweet and  _youthful_ , dammit. Too youthful. She looked so peaceful when you knew she liked a bit of craziness, and you had hoped she was happy with where she was now.   
  
Aradia Megido was the happiest girl you had ever met. Her favorite color was red. She was an aspiring archaeologist. She loved adventure and live action roleplaying. She always seemed to know what time it was, even when she didn't have a watch on her person, and you never even had to check, because she was your clock. She claimed she could hear voices telling her to do things, and you damn well believed her. You can remember the last conversation the two of you had.  
  
 _"Sollux, the voices are getting unbearable and I can't stop them. What should I do?"_  
  
You hadn't taken her as seriously as you should have at first. You hadn't thought to stop and thing that maybe this wouldn't blow over like all of the other unbearable times. Something in your brain didn't click that time, and you didn't think to hold her in your arms and refuse to let her go until it had all blown over.  
  
 _"Hey, don't worry,"_ you had cooed,  _"you know it's nothing. Don't you know how many times you have overpowered them? This won't be any different."_  
  
She had worn a very grim look, which you still didn't think went with her fuzzy black hair, which she had unsuccessfully tried to tame behind a red headband. Grim looks didn't really go with Aradia overall, though.  
  
 _"Are you sure?"_ she had asked, and her words had been hallow. Almost lifeless.  _"Because Sollux, I... I wouldn't be so sure. It's really bad, I can even hear them_ now.  _I can't sleep because of them and... and..."_  
  
 _"And what, AA?"_  You had cupped a hand around her cheek as she tried to hold back tears. It was something serious, you could easily tell that now. Aradia never, ever cried.   
  
 _"Sollux, I'm scared. Terrified."_ You can remember barely being able to hear her when she said it, like she had been afraid to admit that she was scared.  _"I need to end it, Sollux! I_ need _to! I'm desperate! They're telling me to things I don't want to do and I... I..."_  
  
That was when she started to sob, but instead of sobbing in your arms, she turned away from you as though she were self-conscious of her tears. But they weren't tears, they were choked sobs that made it seem like Aradia wasn't breathing at all. All you can do is rub circles on her back in desperate attempts to soothe her; you had never been the empathetic type.  _"There, there..."_ you had whispered as she gasped for air.  _"I promise it will be fine, Aradia. You're stronger than the voices."_ And you thought she was.  
  
Her gulp was the loudest noise she had made since the conversation.  _"Sollux,"_ she had once again whispered,  _"they're telling me to kill myself."_  
  
"Stop right there. Don't do it, AA- don't do it, Aradia."  She should have known you were serious, you weren't using one of your dumb two-letter nicknames. You refused to, even through force of habit.  _"Don't ever talk like that. They're not really there."_  
  
 _"O... of course."_  She then proceeded to stand and wrap her arms tightly around your neck, and you graciously returned the embrace.  _"I won't. I... take me home. I'm going to talk to Mom."_  
  
Of course you took her home when she asked, you drove her the entire way, escorted her to the front stoop, and didn't shut the door until you knew she was for certain talking to her mother.  _"I love you,"_ you had called after her, because even though she was your best friend, she was your favorite thing in the world. She was platonically yours forever.

And then... well, you'll most certainly not forget what happened after that. It had been one in the morning or some other horrifically late time when the home phone started to ring off the hook. You don't know who answered it, you think it might have been your dad. Because you were still hazy when you woke up you didn't bother to check which bastard had woken you up, but you could remember how dark their tone was. You remember hearing sobbing on the other side, it was sloppy and choked like Aradia's but at the same time  _wasn't_  Aradia's. It was a pitch or so higher than hers, and almost a bit more choked.   
  
 _"What's going on?"_  you had asked groggily, rubbing your eyes while still trying to process that you were using a landline phone and listening to a girl sob at one AM.   
  
 _"I... Sollux..."_ It was Aradia's older sister Damara, and you started to fear for the worst. _"It's Aradia. She's... gone."_  
  
And that was when your world had stopped spinning.  
  
Back in the current time, you aren't yet sure if it had started again. You still feel incredibly numb and eternally scared, like there is someway a twist that is going to pop up that will make you angrier than hell now but relieved in the end. You want to think Aradia is going to shoot up from her casket and yell, "You just got punk'd!" However, that obviously won't get to be the case.   
  
The preacher starts to drone on in some reading or another when reality hits you like a sharp slap in the face. You best friend Aradia Megido is  _gone_ , and she is  _never coming back. _ Days of denial have finally come back to bite you in the butt, and you freeze.   
  
The world starts spinning again, and you find yourself caught in the middle and very dizzy.   
  
"Aradia..." you croak, and you can see a sniffling Damara look up at you out of the corner of your eye. You ball your hands into fists, fingernails digging into your palms. "No," you mumble, and you think Damara wants to say something. You won't hear it, though. You're too busy getting trapped in the midst of reality to hear what anyone has to say.  
  
You are at the funeral of your best friend.  
  
Your best friend committed suicide.  
  
You knew it might have happened and didn't do jack shit to stop it.   
  
 _Fuck._  
  
"Oh, my god," you say, and you're quite sure all eyes are on you right now. You can even hear Feferi stop sobbing to snoop into what's going on with you. "This is my fault."   
  
Even the preacher is having trouble concentrating now, and you're probably being the biggest disruption in the world. But you don't care.   
  
"Aradia!" you call out, lump forming in your throat. That lump isn't going to leave any time soon.   
  
"Sollux, what are you-"   
  
You push Miss Megido off of your arms and stumble your way to where dirt is already being piled onto the box containing your best friend, who was also the most beautiful lady you knew, the best person you had ever met, the shine to your sun. And now she was gone.   
  
It seems that you can't hold your own guilt, and you fall to your knees, crying for the first time as the whole news finally sets in about four days too late. You keep screaming your best friend's name over and over, as if that will bring her back, but you know it won't. A hand massages your shoulder, and you want to say it belongs to Miss Megido or Damara, but when you crack one eye open, you see the ringed hand of Feferi, and you crane your neck to see her face, puffy and red and soaked with tears like yours. She has Eridan in tow.  
  
"Sollux," she whispers, "I want her back too."  
  
You know she doesn't know the half of it, but you don't want to be preoccupied with the task of telling everyone that you, Sollux Captor, the world's biggest asshole, didn't believe you'd have to stop her from committing suicide because you weren't thinking that she would. So instead you let Feferi envelope her arms around you as you sob, and let Eridan join in too (though you're pretty sure Feferi forced him to). Both of their touches are foreign but comforting, but they're not what you want. You want Aradia.  
  
"Aradia," you say one last time, sounding weak even to yourself. Feferi whispers some phrase into your ear. You're not sure what she said, but it sounded soothing enough.  
  
Finally you unclench your fists, still shaking from violent sobs. The preacher continues to lead a prayer as Feferi snuggles into you.   
  
You don't know how much time has passed, but not very long after that fiasco Feferi pulls you up, insisting that you have to move so they can finish the burial, and your remaining tears leak out. "I love you, Aradia, please come back," you mumble before turning to face Eridan and Feferi. They escort you from the cemetery.  
  
And thus you, Sollux Captor, are not a skyscraper. You are just the boy who could have stopped his best friend's suicide but ended up not doing so. You are just the boy who had his sunshine taken from him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This work will contain some very sensitive content. This chapter includes emotional and some physical abuse. This is your final warning. If you do decide to turn back, I will in no way be offended.
> 
> PS I'm really sorry.
> 
> PPS Porrim and Aranea are both in college, Kanaya and Vriska are obviously fifteen and thirteen. Told From Kanaya's point of view.

**"Your parents are fighting and it's getting on the borderline of dangerous."**  
  
About this time a month and a half ago, your mother and stepmother loved each other. They laughed together, cried together, cared for the two girls that still lived at home together, and endured the abuse of the public together because dammit, they were in love and they wouldn't let anyone else get in the way of that. Now, a month and a half later, they can't even stand to be in the same room together.   
  
As long as you can remember it had been Dolorosa Maryam, Spinaret Serket, and their four daughters against the world. Being a same-sex couple, you had seen them get harassed plenty of times for "living a sinful lifestyle" amongst some other stupid utterances, but that didn't seem to phase them at the end of the day because they had a happy family. They'd stick their nose up and only put someone in their place when someone tried to bring you or you sisters into it, and frankly, it was bad ass when they did put someone in their place. They had a nice house, good jobs, and, in Spinaret's words, "the four most wonderful daughters lesbians could ask for". Everything for your family was good, really good.  
  
You're not sure where that went, but it's hard to remember that time, especially since you and your thirteen-year-old younger sister Vriska are awake at midnight, spying on one of their fights from behind the hallway corner.  
  
At first all it was was a bunch of off-hand comments and snide looks in public. Then they started talking more, and by that you mean they would sit down at the kitchen table with two cups of coffee and you'd listen in from your bedroom while your little sister pretended like she didn't know what was happening in the next room over. After that they started getting loud, and it turned into yelling and slamming doors and you just wanted it to end.   
  
The worst part is that they act like nothing's going on. Try and act like they're happy, like they're not having problems. It works on some people, like Aranea or Porrim when they call from college or people on the streets, but not on you or Vriska. You're fifteen and thirteen, neither of you are particularly stupid or at all blind, even if Vriska does have a glass eye and wears pretty strong glasses.  
  
"...and the Internet bill didn't get paid this month," Spinaret says, pacing back and forth in front of your mother's sewing desk where Dolorosa sits, moving a needle in and out of a pair of Vriska's jeans.  _Oh, no,_ you think, and you know your sister is too, if her little shift is any indication. These are the worst fights, the one's where one of your parent's brings up some argument fuel while the other's trying to go about their daily routine.   
  
Your mom looks up at her wife with an expression you can't read. "That's not my fault, is it?" she asks sarcastically, and you cringe. The worst thing in the world is when she takes on that tone. It's so uncharacteristic to her normal soft, motherly demeanor. "I'm not the one who uses it, am I?"  
  
Spinaret slams her hands on your mother's sewing table, and the humming of the machine ceases as the two lock eyes, normally menacing blue against uncharacteristically menacing green. You could scream at them to stop, for Spinaret to leave her alone and for your mom to quit egging her on, but you won't. Vriska and you can't get caught, not if you don't want to get an earful of bullshit.  
  
"Fair enough," Spinaret says, "but you're the one who gets the mail every morning." You notice the smallest twitch of your mother's jaw. "Where'd you put the fuckin' bill?"  
  
"I gave it to you." It's a quick statement, she doesn't miss a beat and her tone is sharp enough to cut bread.   
  
"Really?" Spinaret speaks in a condescending way, the kind that you know your mother can't bear to hear. She won't normally have it with you or Porrim, but she seems relatively calm when her wife does. Her jaw seems to twitch more, though. Teeth grinding, you presume. "Because I don't remember getting it."  
  
"You must have lost it."  
  
"Lost it?" Spinaret cackles shrilly before straightening up and pushing the pile of scrapped fabric off the sewing desk. That triggers something defensive in your mother, who slams her hand on the wood and pops right up from her seat. You have to cover your younger sister's mouth with your hand to keep her gasp from revealing you two. Lo and behold, laying on the desk is a white envelope that shines with smugness. "Oh, lookie there!" She swipes the envelope off the desk and reads the front before snorting and throwing the thing in your mother's face with a smooth flick of the wrist. "What could that be?"  
  
Your mother scrambles to take the envelope in her hands as it hits her chest. The way she stares at it seems like a mix of disbelief and disgust, and you wonder if she genuinely knew the thing was there. Likely she didn't.   
  
"Alright, I get it," your mother says, kneeling down to gather up the scrapped fabric on the floor. "Will you go pay it? You know how disappointed the girls will be if they don't get their precious wireless."  
  
A twinge of hurt passes through your heart, and though you know that was supposed to be insulting to you and Vriska, you can tell your mom's trying her hardest not to completely flip out, almost like she knows you and Vriska are right around the corner.  
  
"At midnight? No, no, no, I have to work tomorrow. I should be asleep. You can get off your ass and ship it off, right?"  
  
You can feel Vriska whispering "no, no, no" into your palm.   
  
"Actually, I can't. I'm busy wi..."  
  
"...stitching up my klutzy daughter's stupid jea..."  
  
"...sewing a tear in our youngest daughter's only clean pair of jeans because someone hasn't done the laundr..."  
  
"...which I'm sure only would take ten minutes if you would turn that fucking machine back o..."  
  
"...which I can't get back to if you keep pestering m..."  
  
"Shut up and quit interrupting me!"  
  
Even your mother flinches at that. She straightens up, letting all of the scraps in her arms fall to the floor. "Spinaret, quiet down! The girls are sleeping and..."  
  
Oh, if only she knew the half of it.   
  
"God dammit, Dolorosa, if you would get off your lazy ass, write a damn check, and put that fucking bill in the mailbox I wouldn't  _have_ to worry about waking the girls up, would I?" Spinaret's hands are on her hips, and your mother appears stiff, her lips tightly pursed as your stepmother continues to scream.   
  
"You do it. I'm  _busy_."   
  
"Really now? Busy with what? Busy with sewing up a pair of nasty ass pants? Oh, lah-di-fucking-dah."   
  
Dolorosa laughs, but it's hollow and cold and you're pretty sure that if you weren't watching the scene unravel you wouldn't even recognize that as your mother. But you are watching the scene unfold, and your mother is pointing a small finger at your stepmother. "It's better than anything I've seen  _you_  do for the girl's recently.  _I_ cook for them,  _I_ make sure they're presentable,  _I_ make sure they're happy and healthy, and  _I_ try to not wake them up when you find it appropriate to scream at me for no apparent reason. Quiet down about how I'm "busy sewing your klutzy daughter's pants" and actually do something for them for a change."  
  
Oh, no, this is going to be one of  _those_ fights. Normally if one of them brings up you or Vriska the other will sigh and apologize about being stressed, and then they won't talk for a few days, but there's that rare time when the other just explodes, and it dissolves into an argument about who is the better mother. Vriska looks up at you with those eyes that are almost a mirror of her mother's, and you can see that she's about to cry. That's shocking, as Vriska is emotionally stronger than about ninety-nine percent of the people you know, guys included. You take your free hand, the one not keeping her quiet, and run it soothingly through her blonde hair. You want to tell her that you want to cry too, but you're the biggest sister she's got right now. You've got to seem strong.   
  
"Who do you think brings in the money so you can give the girls that?" Not this. You know exactly where this will go. "While I'm working my ass off trying to get them to have the money to have a happy household, what are you doing?" Spinaret walks over to where you mother hangs the clothing she mends. She started the little business for convenience's sake when one neighbor needed a dress mended, and after a while, she was a hit in the neighborhood. It wasn't a solid job, you admit, but she loved it, and Spinaret even encouraged it.   
  
Up until now, at least.  
  
"This bullshit, that's what." Spinaret slaps the garment bags hanging on the rack and Dolorosa flinches.  
  
"Don't touch those, Spinaret, those aren't..."  
  
"Shut up while I'm talking!" She slams a hand on the desk, her other one balled up into a fist in the air. She's been using it for elaborate hand gestures for a little why now, and you've seen the middle finger come up on its own more than a couple of times. "So don't go on talking about how you're the only one who cares for them when I am the only reason they have half the shit you provide for them!" Your mother raises a hand and wipes a stray tear from her eye, mouth gaping. Every now and again her mouth moves as though she wants to form a few choice phrases, but she won't and you know it. Even when her marriage is falling to pieces she's trying to be as polite as possible. "What are you tearing up about, Dolorosa?" She steps towards you mother, one long finger pointed straight out. "You know it's true. You know that I'm the only reason we're living under a roof, and all because you're stupid."  
  
You know exactly what she means by that. Your mother dropped out of high school at fifteen to care for her younger brother Karcin. She never went back for some undisclosed reason, but no one ever talked about it, especially not in a way to be mean.  
  
You mother's almost vibrating in anger now. She's going to do something, she's going to scream and yell at Spinaret and half the household will break down crying, if not all of it.   
  
"At a loss of words? That's right, because you know it's true. You can't get a real job because you ain't even got a high school diploma, and..."  
  
 _Smack!_  
  
The entire scene freezes, Spinaret has retracted from your mother's face with a hand working its way up to her left cheek, and a bright red hand print is already making its way on it. Your mother has her hand raised, and it's open and her face is expressionless. Vriska is shoving her way out of your arm, and you're frozen.  
  
Your mother, the ever-peaceful Dolorosa Maryam, has just slapped your stepmother in the face. By the sound of the crack it made, it was obviously a hard one.  
  
"Out of my house," she hisses through gritted teeth, and you can see the tears streaking down her rosy cheeks. Spinaret's facial expression screams that she's horrified, and without a word (but a few choked sobs nonetheless), she grabs her jacket and is out the front door before she can even pull it on.  
  
Your mother gives an exasperated sigh and falls into her chair. It takes everything in you not to go over there and rub her back, run fingers through her hair, and just tell her that everything will be okay even though you're not sure it will be. You wish you could, but knowing that you were spying would probably just upset her even more.   
  
Instead, you retreat back the hall to Vriska's bedroom, where you can hear her sniffling through the crack in her door. You open it slowly and slip in, and you gently shut the door behind yourself. The room is pitch black, so you flick on the light.  
  
Curled up on the bed is something that doesn't look like your thirteen-year-old sister. You mean, it does, but at the same time, it isn't. It feels more like a little girl who has only just realized how cruel the world can be and is having the hardest time digesting it, not like Vriska Serket, the girl who likes to tease people and make people's social lives living hell because it's fun.   
  
"Oh, Vriska," you mutter, making your way over towards her, trying to avoid stepping on anything on her floor. You sit on her bed and wrap an arm around the ball she's in. "It'll be okay, don't cry."  
  
"Go  _away_!" she hisses, trying to shake you off. "It's not gonna be okay, and I don't need you to tell me such bullshit. Just... just don't!"  
  
"But it will be." That's a lie if you ever told one. Even if Spinaret does come back, it will take a while for them to mend their marriage, and part of you seriously doubt that will even happen. "Just you wait."  
  
Instead of protesting, Vriska just sighs, her ball letting up a bit. She rolls onto her other side to face you, and before you know it her arms are around you and she is sobbing into your lap. You run a few fingers through her hair. "Don't cry," you tell her, a few tears of your own slipping out. Why not cry? There is, after all, no reason to be happy. "Everything will be okay and you know it, just let time take it's toll..."  
  
In the morning you wake up to the slamming of a door, and your eyes immediately open. Outside it's still dark, so it can't be any later than six in the morning, but you nonetheless detach Vriska from your person and crack open her bedroom door. You sneak down the hallway and take the position you had last night, and the most beautiful sight is unfolding in front of you.   
  
It's not much, but it takes a twinge of pain off your heart. Spinaret stands in front of your mother's sewing desk, and your mother has groggily lifted her head from her crossed arms. They just stare at each other, tear stains on both of their cheeks, not to mention the bruising your stepmother's left one. Both of them nod solemnly to one another and mouth an apology before Spinaret walks off to the kitchen. She notices you in the hall and cracks a small, insincere smile that's full of hurt, and waves. You smile back, a small, insincere one full of hurt as well.   
  
You know things could be better, and that this is disastrous, but it's a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also really bad but I like this chapter. But I'm still really sorry.
> 
> But ayyy, ain't no update like a 4/13 update.

**Author's Note:**

> This is really bad, and I'm just really sorry. I don't know where this came from but it came from somewhere and it gets worse from here.
> 
> If you want to get angry at me, shoot me a message on Tumblr (iamseahorsedad). I'd probably hate me too, so I won't be offended.


End file.
